Escape

by Deana Birch

  “I gotta take J.J. to his mom’s.” Jackson scrunched his nose. It wasn’t the first time he’d hinted at baby-mama drama. “You good?”

  Anton’s crew had been doing a decent job of checking in with me, almost babysitting. Somehow I was off-limits but still their concern. I didn’t know how Anton had explained to them how I’d gone from Leo’s to his to no one’s in a matter of hours, and to be honest, I didn’t care. I’d gotten my freedom. That was all that mattered.

  And the bossman himself had kept his distance. The only time I saw him was if I needed money. It was almost as if he’d shut the door on any further thoughts of me, which was fine by me. His stupid debt repayment had only caused me pain and heartache. But it was odd, the walking around and receiving tight smiles from the crew, like I was precious and respected.

  “I’m good. Just gonna take her out for pizza. You know…the one where they let the kids make their own.” I smiled up to Jackson. Giving Violet a childhood was my number one priority. And with the money Leo had left, it was making it a hell of a lot easier. I fantasized about repaying him, but even if our paths crossed again, he would never take a dime from me. That was how he was.

  Jackson swung J.J. over his head and positioned him on his shoulders. The already-lanky Jackson towered over me with his son atop him. “You call me if you need anything. Got it?”

  I signaled for Violet to come and take my hand. “Thanks, Jackson. We’re gonna be fine. I can feel it.”

  Violet and I swung our hands all the way down the street to the same pizza joint we’d gone to with Leo. The employees fixed her up with a paper hat and apron, and they didn’t seem to be worried about the massive cloud of flour she was going to create. As my little sister sang some version of what she thought was an Italian song, I walked over to a booth in the corner and pulled out my phone.

  The thought of starting from total scratch was overwhelming. Photos of empty lofts and studios only reminded me that my worldly possessions were a pair of heels and some hoodies. And the city was huge. The listings were sorted by neighborhood and I hadn’t known where I’d wanted to live…until Jackson had said midtown.

  It was stupid to think I would one day just magically bump into Leo. But he’d come back and been that quiet version of himself that had a way of soothing my soul. He’d ruined me for other men, I was sure—which was fine. I needed to focus on Violet and me for a while.

  I swiped through the listings in my new decided-upon radius and found a furnished sublet on one of those side streets I’d dreamed about. It was the perfect blend of next-to-everything but quaint and private. It was expensive, but so was everything else.

  Violet giggled. Her life would be forever changed, thanks to Leo—not just his generosity with the money, but also the sacrifice he’d made that I could sense in my bones. There had to have been some sort of trade-off. It was obvious by the suit he’d worn and what had been hidden behind his dark, tortured and beautiful eyes.

  Eyes that could see deep inside of me. Eyes that I vowed to get lost in again someday.

  I stared at the phone number for the listing.

  Fuck it.

  After a shaky breath, I hit dial. Three rings later, a man with a thick accent answered.

  “Hi. I saw your apartment online.” I bit my thumbnail and eyed Violet, who was sprinkling a serious amount of cheese over her pie. She had a smudge of tomato sauce on her cheek.

  “Oh.” The man said, drawing out the short word and making my heart palpitate. “I’m about to show it. You might be too late.”

  There was no room to hesitate. My brand new normal was to grab life by the balls and use every resource I had to get what I wanted.

  And the happy, carefree kiddo was all the inspiration I needed. “I can pay a year in advance. Cash.”

  “It’s all yours.”

  After exchanging a few details and setting up a meeting, I hung up with a nervous smile. We had a new home. Fucking hell, maybe I would finally learn how to cook. There were so many possibilities, and I would never underestimate financial freedom again.

  Not that I could live forever with what Leo had left us. But a fresh start? That was exactly what we needed.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Leo

  For someone who claimed to be happy to have me back, Frankie’s decision to send me to Turkey for three months seemed a hell of a lot more like him getting rid of me.

  Yes, I’d done a bad thing in going to see Fiona. Did that really merit exile to a European country to spy on a local politician who wanted us to take out the businessman supporting his opponent? I sipped my beer and pretended to read my book. I’d picked it up at the airport, but, since it was in Italian, it was as good as gibberish. I could speak enough to get by, but read? Not so much. The verb tenses constantly confused me. I’d been trying to hide my American-ness and blend in as an Italian grad student. I even had glasses.

  The overweight rich crook on the other side of the restaurant let out a boisterous laugh. He was obviously impressed with himself. Flanked with escorts, his evening smelled more like pleasure than business. Frankie’s mission was research and I noted the lustful weakness, paid for my drink and walked down the narrow, colorful street to the small apartment I was renting.

  Alone.

  My new life was that of an isolated hitman—not that I was going to kill the guy on this trip. Frankie had sent me to check out the man and the lay of the land. The politician had only paid half the fee and was trying to negotiate with Frankie on the terms of the other part of the payment. Frankie had doubts that the client could pay the rest, so the price of my plane ticket and stipend were worth the extra confidence that we wouldn’t get fucked over. It wasn’t like we could file a civil lawsuit for unpaid services rendered.

  But the solitude was eating at me. I’d gone to museums, concerts and open-air markets. Women in coffee shops had flirted with me, but I couldn’t stomach the thought of anyone but Fiona. It was ridiculous to think she was pining away for me somewhere at home. And it was utterly pathetic the way I was doing just that thousands of miles away from her.

  The thing was, I couldn’t help it. Somehow, distance was not just making my heart grow fonder, it was fucking aching for her. I wanted to know how she was doing, what she was doing, everything. Had she gotten Violet away from their mom? Did she have a job? Did she like the job? Hell, I’d invented a story in my head that she’d come home from work and I’d rubbed her damn feet.

  And while all the missing her was comforting, it was scaring the shit out of me at the same time. One, because ‘mental stalker’ wasn’t something I’d strived to be. And two, because what would it mean if it was all in my lonely head?

  To complicate things, I was pretty sure she would be long gone from Covington. Any snooping around would require help from Frankie. That door wasn’t just firmly closed. He’d put a padlock and an alarm on it the night he’d busted me. He’d been very clear—‘No ties to Covington.’

  I’d tried not to make the murders look too professional, but in my hateful passion and need for revenge, I’d been too eager to be sleek. I could have used two different guns, for example, leading investigators to believe there’d been more than one of me.

  Making matters a hell of a lot worse and unbearably frustrating was the fact that I hadn’t sparred since I’d last seen Frankie. I was so in need of a fight that my skin itched at the thought. Work-outs were me, endless push-ups and any abdominal work I could dream up on the rug in my small apartment.

  So it was with a huge smile on my face that I packed my bag for my flight the next day. I was ready to get back to the city, back to trying to kick Frankie’s ass, back to finding a way to be with Fiona.

  The next day, I slid the key to the apartment into the mailbox and hailed a cab to the airport. My forged passport didn’t even get a blink and I was on the plane and sprawled out in business class without so much as a second look.

  For the eleven-hour flight, I dreamed of ways to convinc
e Frankie to let me have a girlfriend. Over Ireland, I realized that ‘convincing’ was the wrong verb. Force. I would force him. The flight attendant must have thought my beaming smile was for her or some kind of gratitude for the meal she’d served me but nope. It was me ticking off every little habit in Frankie’s game. Each weakness in his armor would bring me one step closer to Fiona. That was, if she’d have me.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Fiona

  There was one thing I’d learned in my months away from Covington. I was a truly shitty cook. I’d also learned that because I worked at a restaurant, it didn’t really matter. My new job, daytime hostess for a modern chic eatery downtown, allowed me to drop Violet off at her new preschool, work, have some alone time, then pick up my sister without too much guilt.

  The social worker who I reported to had helped me find the preschool for Violet, and since on paper I wasn’t making much money, the fees were being helped by the State. I didn’t like taking the handout, but the money Leo had given us wouldn’t last forever.

  My sister was almost three, so I’d ditched the stroller, bought her a ladybug backpack that held everything she needed and we walked through midtown on our daily routine. She’d settled into life with just me in our new surroundings, perhaps somehow conscious of everything we’d gotten away from.

  I swung her little hand as we walked down the avenue toward her school. With every step I took, I was grateful for my new life, thankful for second chances. And with each one of those steps, I still thought about him.

  About what Leo had sacrificed for me. He’d become what he never wanted to be, in order to give me what I had. Why had I been so special? But more importantly, why hadn’t Leo been back? I’d avoided going down and stalking him at Chezzie’s, but that hadn’t stopped me from wandering the streets, hoping to bump into him.

  Which was silly. With eight million people in the city, the chances were pretty damn slim that it would ever happen. But hope lived on a prayer.

  I gave Violet a hug and a kiss and watched her from the doorway as she changed out of her shoes into her slippers then gave me a final wave before heading into her class. She’d silently understood the need to be independent, much as I had at her age. The more a person could do on their own, the less disappointed they would be when no one offered to do what they needed.

  I strolled down the crowded streets, the fellow residents of the city busying their way to whatever job or date awaited them. It was odd, the overwhelming sense of loneliness while being surrounded by thousands of people. I made my way to the train and found a seat. I always looked at the people, that tiny thread of hope pulling at my heart that Leo was watching over me.

  But, just like all the other days since I’d started working at the restaurant, he wasn’t there. I had plenty of time before I needed to be at work, so I walked to the river and sat at my favorite bench. The cool breeze off the water was a refreshing replacement for the city odors of exhaust and trash.

  I rubbed the crisp cotton of my white shirt into my upper arms and closed my eyes. Cool, fall days were rare and taking them in was a simple luxury.

  “Is this seat taken?”

  There was something in the male voice that gave me pause, and I opened my eyes.

  Leo!

  I blinked, once, twice, thrice. Not Leo. But it could have been his twin in a few years. The same dangerous eyes looked down on me from the same strong nose and perfectly matched olive skin. Other than a dimple in the clean-shaven chin and a kiss of gray above the ears, it could have been him. And the suit… Leo’s older doppelganger wore a sleek, perfectly fitted dark blue suit with a light blue shirt opened one button at the neck.

  I must have been staring. I was pretty sure my mouth was agape.

  The stranger chuckled. “We look alike, huh?” He motioned to the bench. “Mind if I sit?”

  All the street smarts I’d gathered over the years had built an invisible wall around me, and inside, sirens sounded. This was no coincidence and I was almost certain of the identity of the man who unbuttoned his jacket, sat next to me and propped a foot on the opposite knee.

  He spread out, his elbows on the back of the bench and forearms dangling. The reflection from a gold watch that glimmered in the sun bounced off his perfectly shined dark-brown loafers. Any other woman might have been excited by his almost-silver-fox flawlessness. Any other woman who had no idea that she was seated next to a killer.

  “I really need to get to work.” I stood but he caught my wrist and guided me back down.

  “That’s actually not true. Your shift doesn’t officially start for another thirty minutes.” His coy smile didn’t do much to reassure me of my safety and it was a smoking layer of shit on the cake of information he’d just dropped. He knew exactly who I was, where I worked and when I worked.

  He released my hand and shifted his gaze to the ferry passing by on the water. I glued my eyes on him, and my heart beat fast. The man next to me knew where Leo was, how Leo was. If I played my cards right, maybe I could get some kind of news and the reason why he hadn’t checked in on me and Violet.

  “You can stop pretending you don’t know who I am, Fiona. But let’s make it official.” He extended his right hand. “I’m Frankie, your boyfriend’s big, bad brother.”

  I shook his hand then withdrew my own back to my lap, where I was trying desperately not to fiddle with my fingers.

  “I don’t have a boyfriend, so I’m sorry. You must have me confused with someone else, Frankie.” I moved to stand, but Frankie planted a hand on my shoulder.

  “I admire your willpower. I’d thought you would have hit up Chezzie’s ages ago. Although I can’t help but wonder if all that aimless walking isn’t an accident. Pointless, but intentional, in my opinion.”

  Okay… So, Frankie Dearest had all kinds of eyes on me. But I was still alive. That had to count for something.

  “It’s funny. I thought you’d be more talkative. A rare judgment error on my part.” Frankie’s cool tone sent a shiver up my spine.

  I glanced around. The streets had emptied, the former pedestrians all behind desks or having coffee and gossiping with friends. He clocked my eye movement and winked. He’d known exactly when to approach me, and worse, where.

  “You can relax. I’m not out to hurt you. Jesus, any more pent-up rage from him and he’d knock me into next week.” Frankie rubbed his shoulder and winced.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t follow.”

  “Your boyfriend and I had a little bet.”

  I opened my mouth to object, but he raised his hand. “Spare me. Anyway, he won, so I have to tell him where you are.”

  I’d always heard of butterflies going pitter patter in people’s chests and thought it was a load of romantic bullshit…until that moment, because my heart was absolutely flittering at the thought of seeing Leo. I sat up a little straighter and bit my lips inward.

  Frankie narrowed his eyes. “The problem was that I wasn’t sure I could trust you. But I’ve watched you. I see what you’re doing with your sister. I don’t think you would do anything to risk that.”

  There might have been a bit of a threat to his words. It was hard to tell. But he should know that they were truthful. “I wouldn’t.”

  “You haven’t gone to the police.”

  The laugh that popped out of me was brief and a borderline scoff.

  Frankie shifted on the bench to face me. “You were abducted, drugged and sold on the black market. Don’t you think someone should pay for that?”

  His dark eyes dared me to say it, to admit that they had paid for it, with their lives, to confess to Leo’s crime, but he wouldn’t get me to betray Leo. No one could.

  I let out a long breath, the confidence I’d lacked finally filling me up like a warm bath. “My mother’s a drug addict. Justice isn’t a comfort I’m used to.”

  Frankie sat back and rubbed under his chin with the back of his hand. Seconds ticked by before he said, “How about chicken Marsala for dinn
er tonight? I think you know the address.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Leo

  I dressed in a black suit that Frankie’s tailor had made for me. I had to admit, nice clothes weren’t the worst part of working for my brother. Besides, Chezzie loved it when we ‘classed up her joint’. I yanked the cuff of my white shirt out of the jacket and couldn’t help but admire the cut of the soft fabric. After one final glance in the mirror and a rake through my hair, I was out of the door.

  Frankie waited for me in his baby-blue Porsche. He owed me some information, and by the smug look on his face, I was sure he’d found her. I hid my smile and waited.

  He edged into traffic then said, “You should know that the Turkey contract is canceled. That guy was never going to pay us.” Frankie looked over his shoulder and changed lanes to turn downtown.

  I didn’t bitch or moan about three months and a waste of my time, nor did I offer my apologies for the loss of income. I did hope my relief was masked with my silence.

  He continued, “After you left for Covington, I did a lot of thinking about Pop.”

  That didn’t surprise me. We always did a lot of thinking about our father. Some of his words were camouflaged as my own thoughts, since they’d run through my head so much.

  “Do you remember what you said to me before you left?” It must have been a rhetorical question, because he didn’t wait for me to answer. “You said, ‘I don’t want to take a life’.”

  I didn’t remember the exact words, but from his sincere tone, Frankie sounded like those were it.

  “It made me think a lot. You know, like, I didn’t either. I didn’t want to do this. I just always assumed I had to. Then you opted out.”